What is a Friend?
by Habitual
Summary: Megatron and Starscream have left; Barricade is left on Earth for reconnissance. After a chance encounter with a young woman in precarious situations, Barricade grows tired of playing umpire. He offers a deal: he'll watch her for one month, just enough to let her get on her feet, then leave forever. The real question: will he be able to survive living with a human for 30 days?
1. Three

**Author's Note:** I have finally gotten up the muse to start the completely remastered version of _What is a Friend_? Also, forewarning: this AN is going to be a little long.

If you guys are wondering what's been taking to so long to get this started, it's because I have redone pretty much _everything_. I have literally reread through ALL the old chapters, taking notes of what I needed to fix, where I rushed it, and trust me: I am so glad I'm doing this.

I love this story, I truly do. However, when I first started writing it (I was fifteen), I still had a lot to learn about writing. I made Brooke out to be this bland, static character: she had a shitty past, but toughed it out for the greater good! While I understand there's nothing inherently _wrong_ with that, I did a very poor job of portraying it. I just didn't understand the implications and psychological trauma her history would have on her. I also wanted to make her different; something that would make her unique from everyone else, hence, her eyes.

I have since gone through and rethought her history and personality. I've done my research, gotten a better understanding of what to do, and prepared myself to write again. This is why I'm asking for a personal favour: if you were a follower of this story from its humble beginnings, please reread the new version. I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I have, and I hope my revisions make it an even more enjoyable read!

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Transformers; all non-canonical characters belong to their respective owners.

_Warning:_ Implied violence, language.

* * *

**Three**

November 23th, 2010

_Three Days Prior_

* * *

_You are our best reconnaissance agent. You are stealthy, cunning, and an adept profiler. There is no one better suited. I would tell you more, believe me, but the powers that be demand I do not. Were it up to me, I would have you off that insect ridden planet as soon as possible - we need the extra hands up here, anyway._

_Regardless, your task is easy: just keep an eye on the boy and the Autobots. I will be in touch with you soon enough._

What other choice did he have but to say "Yes, sir," and take it? This was the consequence of his choices - he didn't like it, but still, he would admit it was a necessary job.

And nobody can do a job like this better than _him_.

* * *

Hidden amongst the forest of Sourland Mountain, Barricade explored a clearing on foot. He was cautious; stood hidden amongst the trees and branches, he scanned the seemingly-abandoned building in front of him. The only heat signature's he picked up were the birds.

With the coast clear, he walked out into the clearing. It wasn't very big, and there was a grown over path where cars had obviously driven on before. He approached the building, taking multiple readings and scans. So far, it appeared to be structurally sound - he could see no major flaws, aside from corrosion on the metal panels. From his data, he could assume this was a defunct lumber yard. He knelt down to the large double doors; they were large, but not big enough for him to get through in his true body. Gently, he hooked a clawed finger between them, pulling slightly. It took a little wiggling, but the door finally gave and moved to the side; squealing in protest as it did.

He flinched; that would have to be fixed.

Barricade lowered himself to the ground, peering inside the building. Where the doors fell short, the inside made up; it was tall enough for him to stand up straight and still have a little space left over. All of the machinery was gone; there were a couple tables, a few shelves and cabinets, and in the far back was an office area. Littered around the floor was garbage of various kinds; candy bar wrappers, beer bottles - nothing exciting.

Pulling himself back up into a kneeling position, Barricade turned around and did another thermal scan. All that came up was animals; good, that was how it needed to be.

He transformed quickly, and drove inside. Once he did, he transformed again, standing up cautiously. He watched his shoulder crests carefully; as he had previously assumed, he had a good six feet of room left. Barricade clearly wouldn't be jumping in here anytime soon, but honestly, when would he need to?

Now that he was inside, he could have a better look at the place. The ventilation system had rusted and fallen from the ceiling in a few places. There was a layer of dust over pretty much everything; some places had been disturbed by the adventurous spirits who managed to find it before him. From where he stood, it also looked much larger than it had from outside.

With all the empty space, he had plenty of room for himself. Sure, the place wasn't exactly "sanitary," but he could easily scavenge something to use as a giant impromptu dust rag. Humans threw away a lot - or, at least, the humans in these lands did. Barricade had seen the landfills before - he had thought Cybertron was bad, but boy, had Earth proved him wrong. On Cybertron, any garbage was processed; it was checked for anything that could be recycled. Anything that couldn't be reused was gathered, pressed into giant cubes then jettisoned off planet. Granted, that could be problematic for someone else, but hey: they didn't get any complaints.

Barricade had to pause a moment and allow himself to dip into a very brief moment of narcissism. Old and worn is at may be, he had a place to shelter from the elements. He'd figure something out later on about heating it slightly; nothing fancy, just enough to ensure he didn't lock up in the coming winter months. There was about five inches of snow already on the ground; an odd fact, since it was usually deeper by now. Or, so the man on the radio had said. Barricade didn't particularly care; he had his shelter, he was content.

With his plan in mind, he transformed again, and exited the mill. He had his hologram close the door, which moved only slightly better this time, before heading back out on the dirt path.

* * *

Barricade's forethought to check a landfill had proved fruitful: a relatively clean sheet was folded and tucked away in his trunk. Night had already set; very few people were out. Stopped at a red light, Barricade's hologram leaned back and sighed. A human gesture, but he knew those cameras would be watching him. Off to the right, he heard a tenor voice shout out a name, followed by a sharp "What do _you_ want?"

Curious, the hologram leaned forward. A young woman, probably in high school, had been accosted by three men, not much older than she. It seemed to be that they knew each other, but judging by her expression, the young woman didn't exactly appreciate their presence. The men were asking her questions, and it was apparent by her body language that she was growing more and more aggravated.

Barricade threw a look in the rear view mirror: no body. One car came up next to him and turned left. He looked back to the girl, who smacked away one of the men's hands.

What possessed him, he didn't know, but without a thought he opened the door and got out.

"Hey!" he barked. The men stopped immediately, and turned to look. For a very brief moment, he could see their annoyance, but once they saw the uniform and car, they immediately changed their demeanours.

"Is there a problem here, miss?" Barricade asked, hiding his bemusement at the terrified faces of the men.

The girl looked astounded, if not a little annoyed. Barricade could only assume she had seen him and wondered why he'd taken so long to respond. She stood a little straighter, and looked him in the eye.

"Aside from being extremely uncomfortable, officer," she said pointedly, "These gentlemen are beginning to-"

"Ah- ah, no, no, it's fine, sir," one of the men interrupted. "We were just leaving anyway."

Barricade cocked a brow. "And you're not even going to apologize?"

"Right! Right... Sorry, Brooke, we didn't mean to. G'night."

The others muttered their apologies, and one even patted her shoulder in a mock-gesture of friendship. Barricade didn't miss the subtly flinch, nor her shying away from his touch. They began walking back down the street, talking amongst themselves. The woman turned to watch them leave; once they had rounded a corner, she turned back.

Barricade's brows lifted. Her expression told him she was debating whether or not to thank him or scold him. After a moment of silence, her shoulders dropped and she exhaled.

"Thank you, officer," she said, sounding tired and worn out.

"You're welcome. What did they want, anyway?"

The woman was silent for a moment. "Nothing important; they're... friends of my brother."

He didn't miss the unspoken air quotes around "friends."

"Will you be alright?" he asked. Hopefully, she'd agree and be on her way, so he could stop pretending to care.

"I'll be fine," she replied, much to his relief. "My house isn't too far off. Good night."

Barricade stood there for a few moments, watching her cross the street and walk off. He climbed back inside the car, leaning forward a moment more to watch her. He knew there was an apartment complex not too far down the road; she must have lived there. Honestly, he could've cared less about what happened to the girl, but he had to keep up appearances. In his gut, however, something felt off. She'd clearly felt animosity towards those men; she displayed all the signs of discomfort. Hell, she'd even given _him_ a brief dirty look for taking so long.

He shook off those pointless worries. It wasn't his job to care about some squishy little meat bag - he had himself to care about.

Pushing the incident to the back of his processor, he took off, heading back for Sourland Mountain. Despite his resolve to forget what happened, he had this nagging sensation that he'd see that girl again.

* * *

**End Note:** _Please note - this is the new version of WiaF. It is a remastered story, and will be vastly different from the old. Please subscribe to this one._

And there it is! The first chapter of WiaF, totally remastered!

Thank you for all your support and patience; it means a lot. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do c:


	2. Two

**Author's Note:** ...

Slow and steady wins the race?

I am **so** sorry for the delays in everything. My muse has been all over the place for me; I've been busy at work and with life in general as I get ready for college. Essentially, I've had little time to just focus on updating my stories. I do apologize; my updates will be super sporadic as I try to fight writer's block, life, and other hurdles. I've also been trying to finalize ideas for a new fanfic, that may or may not make its debut soon. I've been mulling this new idea over for the better part of three years, and keep stumbling at parts.

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Transformers; all non-canonical characters belong to their respective owners.

_Warning:_ None.

* * *

**Two**

November 24th, 2010

_Two Days Prior_

* * *

It had taken a few years, but she knew exactly what to do. Just like any other day.

She knew exactly what to do and exactly where to go. She could dance to Swan Lake and not once wake the beasts hidden in the master bedroom. But, this was the result of matters not discussed in polite society. It was ... humourous, in a way, she thought. The best actors were the ones who had something to _really_ hide. Loss at a young age did this to her; being forced to grow up as a prepubescent child did this to her.

Her teacher always said "beggars can't be choosers."

So, she did as any human would do: adapted. "Evolved" to fit her environment, however toxic it might be.

The day started like any other: she was the first up in the morning. Her brother was either there or not. Today was a 'not.' It was eight in the morning, according to her clock: just as it should be. She'd get up, go to the closet, and slowly open it. It wasn't necessarily loud, but it had a bad habit of squeaking when opened too quickly. She'd pick out something to wear for the day. The paper yesterday had mentioned it was going to be somewhat cold, so she had to pick accordingly. Her favourite pair of jeans, complimented by a long-sleeved cream sweater; not too thick, but enough to keep her warm. Add in some warm socks and her necklace and all was set.

After getting dressed, she would leave her room and walk to the kitchen, stepping over the floor board that butted up against the linoleum. She'd grab a bowl of cereal or some toast, and today was toast. A spread of butter and strawberry jam finished off her modest breakfast. It'd hold her over until lunch, and that's what mattered. She could make a thermos of cocoa at work, so she didn't bother with a drink.

In the bathroom, her hair was brushed and braided, her teeth brushed and flossed, and her face washed. The freckles that littered her cheeks and nose still remained, however, to see another day. She liked them some days, hated them others. Truthfully, her relationship with her body was easily a "love-hate" one.

As she turned the light of her bathroom off, she heard someone rolling over. Everything seemed to freeze; she didn't dare breathe as she strained to listen. When no new noise was heard, she released a sigh of relief. Gathering her bag and donning her jacket, she slipped out into the brisk morning air and locked the door behind her.

She adored winter for more reasons than one. The crispness of the air that cleared her head and kissed her ears; the crunching of snow beneath her boots - it was heavenly. Granted, there was a very small layer of snow right now, but it was enough.

It took about thirty minutes for her to walk from home to work. A modest cafe called _Simplicity_ tucked amongst a few clothing stores. It was known for the home-style food and friendly service. Jacqueline had many friends and no mean bones in her body; her understanding with Brooke's situation was a god-send out of a fairy tale. Well, she didn't know the _whole_ truth, but it hardly mattered.

"Ah, and there's our little Brooke!" Andrew called out from the kitchen, arms wide.

Brooke shot him a joking glare and he laughed. Helen stuck her head out from under the register, waving.

"Morning, Helen,"

"Good morning, Brooke," Helen replied in a light tone. "Cold out?"

"I'll say; seems like winter has finally come," Brooke chuckled, taking her jacket off and hanging it up on the coat rack behind the counter. She tucked her bag underneath it, just as a precaution.

"Jackie said she'll be in soon-ish; had to run by the bank or something," Andrew called out from the kitchen. "Or so Chase told me."

There was an indignant reply from somewhere near the freezer. Brooke rolled her eyes and grabbed an apron. The door's bell rang, and in that brief moment, the day began.

Just like any other day.

* * *

"Brooke - order for you!"

"You're a peach, Chase,"

The brunet hummed in appreciation, turning back to the eggs he was poaching. Brooke picked up the two plates of pancakes and walked out to the floor.

As she approached the booth, the elderly couple glanced up, both smiling brightly.

"Two blueberry pancakes," she began, setting the plates down, "Done up Mickey and Minnie mouse style."

The couple chuckled, and the lady reached out a weathered hand that Brooke took in her own.

"You're always so punctual and patient, Brooke," she cooed. "I don't know how you do it."

"Someone has to be the optimistic one! Honestly, all my coworkers are pessimists - Debby-Downers, the lot of 'em."

"I heard that!" Helen admonished, picking up empty plates from a tablet to take back.

At the weak squeeze, Brooke looked back to the couple. Eloise and Deidrick had been regular customers for over ten years now. While Brooke had only been working at the small restaurant for about a year, they quickly took a shine to her. Every Wednesday and Saturday they would come in to order the same breakfasts; blueberry pancakes shaped like Mickey and Minnie mouse. Deidrick had explained that their first "date" was at a small diner that often played the song Mickey whistled in _Steamboat Willie._ It'd since become the symbol of their marriage. The two had befriended Brooke in record time, likening her to a grand-daughter. She wasn't about to complain; they were always nice and understanding with her.

Brooke made her rounds, assuring everyone had a good meal and needed nothing else. As she came back around, Eloise flagged her down.

"May we have our check? We've got other errands to run today."

"You sure can," Brooke chirped, pulling their tab from her pocket and setting it on the table. "I'll be right back to pick that up."

Stepping back into the kitchen, she grabbed a platter of food for a family of five. Even if the younger kids were a bit spoilt, she still served them with a smile, asking if anything else was needed. After being told no, she turned to see Eloise and Deidrick waving goodbye. She returned the gesture, walking over to pick up their payment.

_You do such a good job every time we come in, sweetheart. Deidrick and I wanted to give back a little for all you've done. It isn't much - not after all you've done - but it is something._

Brooke lifted a brow. It wasn't uncommon for them to leave her nice notes, but this one sounded so serious. She flipped the tab over, and gawked, nearly dropping the glass she'd picked up on her way over. All but dropping it onto the table, she turned on her heel and bolted for the front door. Stopping to look, she spotted the couple heading for their car.

"Wait! Wait, Mrs. Thompson!"

The elderly duo paused, turning to see Brooke as she sprinted up to them.

"Yes?"

"I _can't_ accept a _hundred dollar tip_!" she cried, clutching the tab for dear life. "That's just not f-"

"Sweetheart," Eloise chided, "We've done many smart things in our seventy-four and seventy-eight years of life. One of them being assured of finical stability; we can easily afford to give you a nice tip."

"I'm not- it's not your finances I'm concerned about!" Brooke replied, exasperated.

"Then why are you so upset?" Deidrick asked, cocking his head.

"I can't just take your money like that! I'm just a waitress!"

"Brooke," Deidrick moved forward, putting a hand on her shoulder to still her quaking. "You've been nothing but smiles and kindness to us since we first met you on your first day. We see you here, without fail, every Wednesday and Saturday. You've come in days where you look tuckered out, and days where you were sicker than a dog. We know you want to move out and become independent. If that little tip does anything to aide you in that, we're willing to give it."

Brooke's mouth hung open, but no words would come out. She stood there, gaping like a fish out of water. The couple repeated their desire to help her out as she had them. Eloise gave her a quiet admonishment for keeping her mouth open, tapping it shut with a finger to her chin. They said their goodbyes, walking a few more feet to climb into their car.

Looking down at the total line again, Brooke clutched the paper close to herself.

Maybe it wasn't like any other day.

* * *

**End Note:** I'M AN AWFUL EXCUSE FOR A WRITER :'C I make you guys wait way too long for stuff. I've never been good at finishing projects I started of my own volition.


	3. One

**Author's Note:** Again, thank you for your patience in this endeavor of mine.

Please note: I'm doing this of my own free-will, with what free time I have. My muse is a fickle thing; I update sporadically at best. I'm trying to write these out while my muse is fresh, so I can post them over a period of time. We'll see how that goes. Also, if at any point any of you want to compare the old to the new, send me a PM. I'll send you a short excerpt from both the old and new versions for comparison. I _will not_ be sending whole chapters or the whole story; _excerpts only_.

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Transformers; all non-canonical characters are copyrighted to their respective owners.

_Warning(s):_ Language, implied violent intentions.

* * *

**One**

November 25th, 2010

_Day of the Deal_

* * *

There was no way around it: patrol was absolutely boring. Humans complained incessantly about Mondays being awful (which he didn't understand; it was just another weekday), but at least most of them had things to do. Technically, he _did_ have something to do. He knew the human boy was at school now; his guardian no doubt somewhere in the campus parking lot, if not elsewhere nearby.

With little to do but sit around and peruse police radio channels while gathering intelligence on earth, Barricade was left bored of his mind. Don't get him wrong: Earth genuinely intrigued him. In the millennia of war, he'd seen many species of aliens, all of them unique. But humanity... humanity was a whole new tier. It was multifaceted to an extreme; such tiny creatures that were so ineffably complex shouldn't exist. These weak, tiny, repulsive organic creatures were so complex it baffled him. No other alien species had so many variations; none could even _begin_ to compare to the complexity of humans.

They were still disgustingly squishy, however. That was something that couldn't be forgotten.

The sound of squealing laughter drew his attention. Barricade glanced off to his left, where a group of kids walking home were in an impromptu snowball fight. With an impassive face, he pulled away from the curb, heading for the down town area.

* * *

In hindsight, Brooke really should've brought a heavier jacket for work. She hadn't slept too well the previous night, and hadn't been thinking too clearly this morning. In her drowsy state, she inadvertently woken up her mother who reminded her, rather rudely, how precious sleep was. Brooke had just averted her eyes and accepted the verbal lashing with a mumbled "yes, mother." Not the best start to a day.

As the sun began to set and the temperature dropped, Brooke grew more restless. Her mother didn't work Fridays, meaning tonight would be one of _those_ nights.

Brooke turned her attention back to the register. Counting the till wasn't her favourite part of the job, but she knew it was important.

After about fifteen minutes, she finished, writing down amounts in appropriate boxes and slipping it under Jacqueline's door. Walking into the kitchen, she saw Andrew tilt his upper body back to peer around the wall dividing a counter and the sinks.

"You finished out front?"

"Pretty much; the floors weren't that dirty, so I'm not going to bother," Brooke replied with a shrug, glancing around for any stray towels or utensils.

The flow of water stopped abruptly, and Brooke looked to Andrew with a risen brow. He gave her a concerned look while drying off his hands.

"Is something wrong? You're quieter than usual," he asked, his voice laced with empathy.

Brooke gave a faint smile. "I'm fine - didn't sleep well last night is all."

She turned back to fold some towels, but she knew Andrew was giving her a look. Of all the employees, he was the most astute. Brooke had no doubt that he knew something was up, but didn't know whether it or not it was safe to breech the topic. And if he did think it was, but wasn't out of consideration, Brooke mentally thanked him for that. A part of her wanted to assuage his concern, but she knew better. The last thing she needed right now was legal concerns on top of her already precarious living situation.

* * *

After a half an hour, the two of them had finished all their closing duties. Jacqueline stood at the door, adjusting her scarf and finding her keys. She looked up and gave a small groan.

"Sweetie, why are you wearing such a thin jacket?"

"I meant to grab a thicker one," she explained. "I was tired this morning; I'll have a better one tomorrow."

"I hope so! It's getting cold out there lately," Jacqueline sighed. She held open the door for the two as they walked out into the chilly night air.

"Need a ride, Brooke?" Andrew asked.

"You do realize I live, like, maybe ten minutes away right?"

"Is that by car or foot?" he retorted, lifting a brow.

Brooke sneered back. "It's fifteen on foot if traffic's bad. Which, at this hour, it's not; I'll be fine, but thank you."

Andrew shrugged, walking over to his car. Jacqueline followed suit, waving and saying her goodbyes. Brooke waved them off, watching as they pulled out of the lot and onto the street. With a shiver, she pulled her jacket tighter, adjusted her bag, stuffed her hands in her pockets and headed out onto the sidewalk.

* * *

She really should've seen this coming.

_It's only ten minutes away_, she had said. _I'll be fine_ - what utter bullshit.

"Brooke, our favourite gal,"

Tensing her shoulders, Brooke kept on as if she hadn't heard them. Until a hand came down on her shoulder, she cried out involuntarily as she was spun around.

"Come on, we know you heard us!" the young man chided in a playful tone. Two of his friends stood off to his left, leaning against a building. "You really are a kidder, you know."

"Jesus Christ, Adrian, what the hell do you want now?"

"Whoa, easy there, tiger! We just wanted to ask a couple questions,"

"Yeah, no harm in that, right?" another man piped up.

"That's the biggest load of bull I've ever heard you say. You want to ask questions? Fine, here are your answers: no, I'm not helping you; no, I don't care what the problem is. Deal with it yourselves. And finally, no, because why? I don't give a damn," Brooke spat, narrowing her eyes.

Adrian's eyes narrowed too. "Jesus, who the fuck pissed in your cereal? You don't even know what-"

"That's because I don't _need_ to!" she barked. "I don't know if you've noticed, but you and your ilk _really are_ that predictable."

Now, the other two narrowed their eyes, giving each other looks. Obviously, she struck a chord. Normally, Brooke would never act so bold, nor be so loud, but she was tired, cold and cranky. Above all, though, she was walking into some serious shit.

"I don't know what your problem is, Brooke, but you really should work on that attitude of yours," Adrian said, taking a threatening step forward. Brooke stepped back. "We just wanted to talk but you're getting pretty rough. We could've just wanted the time. Now, you know your brother better than we do; we just want to know where he is. We know you've helped him out."

Brooke let out a harsh snort. "Yeah, "helped," that's not the word I'd use. He lied about what that money was for, just so you're aware. I don't help him out anymore, he does it himself. And like hell I'd give you any money. I don't even have anything on me."

"Oh, I seriously doubt that," Adrian scoffed, taking another step forward.

Normally, Brooke was more observant than this. It wasn't until she backed up another step that she realized she'd been herded right into a small alcove between two buildings. With her back to the wall, she glanced over his shoulder and back at Adrian. Her face contorted with disgust at the leering sneer he had.

"Just_ what_ do you three think you're doing?"

* * *

He knew it.

He _knew _it.

That little, obnoxious part of his processor that said "You'll see her again" had been right. What a surprise, considering it usually was. Barricade hadn't even intended to be on this part of town; it was just a faster route to Sourland Mountain.

He'd watched from the sidelines as the man had accosted the young girl in a rough manner. It was the exact same group as the other night. The girl seemed tense, agitated, and when she had backed up at his advances, Barricade knew she was getting scared.

However, he _did_ have to give her credit: she was no pushover. Words alone, however, rarely meant much on the streets. He had no doubt she could hold her own verbally; physically, her prowess obviously left a lot to be desired. What exactly had possessed him to get out and help her was beyond him. By the Allspark, he better not be getting a _soft spot _for humans.

With all three of their backs to him, Barricade had the perfect set up. Standing in the mouth of the alcove, he put on the most vicious glare he could. Within seconds of his approach, the girl seemed to take notice, if her widened eyes were any indication.

"Just _what_ do you three think you're doing?"

At the gruff voice, all three men turned with angry faces that melted away into trepidation faster than butter on a skillet. The one who had been the most forceful - Adrian, she said - backed off the girl a moment later. Barricade locked his gaze on her and she wilted under the intensity. With a nod to his side, he gave a silent command. In seconds, she scampered around the men and over to him, standing off his right shoulder.

"Look, officer-"

"Shut up."

Three mouths shut with audible clicks at the vicious order.

Deciding to have a little fun, he drove his body over to park alongside the curb. The humans looked to it, growing tenser, but when they noticed, Barricade had to contain himself from laughing. The look of absolute _horror_ on their faces when they realized there was no driver was _priceless_. He felt the girl tense up beside him; she had noticed too.

He could see the gears of panic turning in their heads. They were trying to formulate any excuse to get out of this mess. Barricade had already done more than enough for this human, but she kept finding trouble, didn't she?

A thought arched across his processor - one that was just as quickly stomped down and kicked into a corner. He wouldn't. Never - not in a hundred years or for all the energon in the galaxy.

"Were I you, I'd _run_."

They didn't need to be told twice; the three men booked it out of the alcove. Barricade noted, a bit smugly, they went his left, purposely avoiding the girl. He turned slightly to watch them hightail it down the street and round the corner, nearly slipping as they did.

Turning around, Barricade watched the girl step back and readjust her jacket and bag. He barely picked up the rushed "thank you" as she turned to leave. He watched her begin to walk off hurriedly towards the apartment complex down the street.

For a second, it seemed as if things slowed down considerably. He was fighting a vicious internal conflict; a part of him knew that if he didn't do something, he'd be seeing this girl many other times. Then, that thought - that one stupid, asinine thought - came into his head.

_What's the _worst_ that could happen?_

"Hey, kid," he barked.

The girl visibly flinched, stopping mid step. Slowly she turned around, making sure to avert her eyes.

Barricade lifted a brow. "No acknowledgement? You're not even going to look me in the eye and say thank you?"

There was a brief moment where her gaze met his, but she wilted further, curling in on herself and looking away again.

"Thank you, sir," she replied in a hushed tone. Everything about her attested to her desire to get away from here and forget it ever happened.

Barricade huffed. "Hardly gratitude, but I suppose that's to be expected. What's your name?"

"Brooke,"

He arched a brow.

"Brooke Callahan," came the correction. "I live just down the street here. I'd like to go, if that's alright. I just... I just want to go... um, home."

There was a pause; neither of them spoke. The eerie silence of the night was palatable. With a groan, the hologram's shoulders dropped.

"I don't know how stupid you take me for, Brooke," he began. "But I know the sound of someone who's just trying to run away. I can tell you don't really want to go home; it's simply the closest familiar place. I'll take a stab in the dark and say "home" isn't exactly "safe," is it?"

Brooke flinched, her face contorting to a pained expression. Oh, he'd hit the nail on the head alright. It was in that brief moment that Barricade realized something: Brooke was still staring at him. Not his hologram, at _him_.

He gave a dark chuckle. "Like that little trick, did you?"

The girl was quiet. "Cars don't drive themselves..."

A sardonic snort was her reply. "You're damn right they don't. Then again, it's not exactly your average car."

That seemed to strike something. The girl looked up to the hologram, fear evident in her eyes.

"What the fuck are you?"

Barricade shrugged. "What do you think I am?"

"That's not-" Brooke bit back her tongue. She really didn't know who - what - this thing was. Pissing it off probably wasn't a good idea.

"You're a quick one, aren't you? A wise move; I'm not very nice when I'm angry."

Discretion was the better part of valour, and discretion won out. Brooke shook her head and backed up a little bit.

"Look, I don't care - I don't. I'm going home - I never saw you," she said turning and starting to walk. She screamed and fell backwards when the officer materialized in front of her in a wave of static.

"Oh, no, I don't think so," it grumbled. "I've no doubt you'll keep your mouth shut, but that's not my issue. My issue is that I seem to keep being your saviour."

"It's been two times!" Brooke nearly shouted, scooting back on the ground. The... thing in front of her knelt down, an exasperated expression on its face as if this was all trivial.

"That's one times too many," came the cool reply. "So, I'm willing to make a deal with you."

Brooke stared, flabbergasted. _Who the hell does he think he is?!_

"You clearly don't want to go home; you also have a penchant for running into trouble. I'm not going to pretend to understand, let alone care, what your problems are, but that much is clear to me. I don't expect anything in return from this; if anything, I'm only offering this because it'll make my life a little more interesting. Well, if only for a while."

Slowly, Brooke's brows pinched together. She didn't like where this was going.

"I'll be brief: I'll look out for you for one month. Thirty days - that's all. After that, we go our separate ways and never speak to each other again. You get away from your house, don't have to worry about being jumped, and I get the peace of mind that I won't have to constantly save you."

Barricade could see the girl taking it all in. Her face went through a volley of emotions: confusion, anger, more confusion, and then understanding. He wasn't, however, expecting her response.

"Why do this then, if all you get is a little relief from boredom? Wouldn't it be more exciting to see the trouble?"

He gave a low snort. "Are you saying you _want_ me to leave you be, and see if you potentially wind up hurt?"

"You said you wanted a solution to your boredom, not a cure," she retorted.

_She's quicker than I gave her credit,_ he mused to himself.

"Maybe I think this will be more interesting. Besides, humans are fascinating little things."

"Well, we've already breached the fact you're _not_, so what the hell _are _you?"

"That answer is better left untouched for now. You want to know, we need a much more secluded place than this."

The hologram stood up, keeping his eyes on Brooke. Bending over slightly, he extended a hand to her.

"Ultimately, I don't care what you do. If you say no, fine. I guarantee that if you did tell anyone about me, they'd never find me. If you say yes, well, you already know the benefits."

Brooke looked to the hand extended to her. Everything logical screamed at her to say no. Just get up, brush herself off, and forget this ever happened. She could go about her life as if everything was fine, and in a year or two, she'd never remember this even happened. She looked up to the man wearily, her hand clutched tightly against her chest.

"Curiosity _killed_ the cat," she murmured.

Later, she'd blame the cold for her hand reaching out, taking hold of the one offered.

"Satisfaction brought it back."

* * *

**End Note:** So, due to how I had written the previous version of these chapters, I had the events of a few days spread out in them. Didn't work out that way this time, so you all get one massive chapter this time around.

I've done more work for this fic in the course of three days than I have in seven months. Wow, if that doesn't say something about myself. It's 2 am where I am right now; I'll reread this and fix errors in the morning.


	4. Day One

**Author's Note: **Bleh, I can feel that muse high slipping away. I would really like to work on my other fic; it's been sitting here for two years and has yet to be written out lol.

A fair warning right now: this chapter is **dialogue heavy**. Barricade and Brooke have a lot of ground rules to cover, and while I've done my best to make a balance, there is a lot of speaking in this chapter. I imagine in the next one I'll summarize the rules, so if you're not a fan of lots of speaking, you're free to skip this chapter.

_Disclaimer: _I do not own Transformers; all non-canonical characters belong to their respective owners.

_Warning(s):_ Language; implications of domestic abuse.

* * *

**Firsts Are Never Easy**

November 27th, 2010

_Day One of Thirty_

* * *

The night prior seemed like a dream. Brooke wasn't even sure it was real until she woke up the next morning.

That... Christ could she even say "police officer?" _Barricade, _he'd called himself, had driven her home, but stopped her before she got out. She could still feel it; the heat his... hologram had given off when he grabbed her wrist, refusing to budge. It felt human; the pressure, the warmth, the rough skin - all of it.

_Tomorrow, exactly at three, come to the park down the street. I'll be waiting on the bench; if we're going to do this, I'm going to lay down ground rules._

_I still don't get _why_ you're doing this._

_Yeah, well, if we're being honest: I don't either._

At least he was being honest. While it wasn't exactly _comforting_ to know something had just offered to play guardian out of boredom, it was a tantalizing offer. Not having to worry about her parents for a whole month sounded nice. Plus, it'd give her a month's worth of wages to help save up towards getting a decent apartment.

Lucky for her, she didn't work today. Unlucky for her, that meant she was home most of the morning. Her mother had left her alone so far, so all was well. At two thirty, Brooke got up and started getting ready. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, heading out of her room to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

As soon as she turned the faucet off, she knew someone was looking at her. Turning her head slightly, her mother stood there, giving her a disapproving looking.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," Brooke replied simply. Her mother's brow twitched.

"Obviously - out _where_?"

"The park; just getting fresh air, is all."

For a moment, her mother did nothing but stare her down. Brooke kept her gaze, despite the feeling of uneasiness creeping up her spine. The older woman just scoffed and turned on her heel to head for the kitchen. Brooke let out a silent sigh of relief. She was quick to grab her winter jacket and head out the door before anything else could happen.

That was way too close for her comfort.

It only took about ten minutes to walk to the park from the apartment, leaving Brooke ample time to take it slow and enjoy the crisp afternoon. It had snowed over the night, so everything was blanketed in the soft white snow.

Stepping into the park grounds, Brooke saw children playing in the snow; some used the playground equipment, some made snow angels. A brief smile crossed her face, but even she knew it was forlorn.

"I hear frowning causes wrinkles,"

Brooke gasped sharply, turning around harshly to look up at the smug officer. In the daylight, she could get a better glimpse of the pseudo-man's face.

While _she_ knew it was fake, anyone else would never be able to tell. The hologram had a young face; no older than thirty. It had short black hair tucked under an officer's hat. The face was clearly designed for intimidating; rough, weathered, and tanned, a sharp Roman nose and a clean shaven, strong jaw line exuded danger. The eyes were a deep brown, set in a near permanent glare, and Brooke swore they reflected red.

"I'm not that old; I don't need to worry about wrinkles. Don't know so much about you,"

"We already discussed this isn't what I actually look like," came the retort. The hologram moved to stand beside Brooke at a respectable distance, hands tucked into a dark blue overcoat.

"Then what _do_ you look like?"

"Later," Barricade said. "I'd rather know you're serious about this before I trust you with that."

Brooke averted her gaze, looking back to the playing children. There was silence between the two for a few moments.

"You still don't know why you're doing this?"

Barricade was silent. After a moment, he sighed, "It's complicated. The thing is - I'm bored out of my mind. There's only so much to do, and doing it day in and day out gets old fast. Doing this is... well, it's a change of pace. You humans are fluid beings; you're always changing. I'd be lying if I said I didn't find your species intriguing."

"And me?"

Barricade looked to her from the corner of his eye. "You were the first I saw in a situation like that. The first human I saw that exuded the desire to get away from their everyday life."

"... Have you seriously never seen a person get jumped before?"

"It's not about that. I couldn't care less if a human gets jumped; that happens all the time. No, you knew them. They made you uncomfortable, yet you still tried to defend yourself. But when I showed up, you wilted like a flower. I can already tell that your confidence only goes so far."

Brooke's shoulders rose with indignation, and her mouth opened to retort, but Barricade cut her off.

"Don't try to defend yourself; it's pointless because you know it's true. I'm not going to pretend I understand what's going on with you, but you've already made it clear that your home life is nothing to tell stories of. Which brings me to my first question: what exactly is wrong with your home?"

"That's personal," Brooke replied primly, looking away.

Barricade's brow twitched. "I'm offering to watch over you for a month; I'm not only putting myself at great personal risk, but I'm offering my _time_ and _energy_ while asking for nothing in return. Are you _really_ going to pull the "it's personal" card with me?"

"Yes, I am. I don't know shit about you, and you're expecting me to just open up?"

"You give to get, kid."

Brooke scoffed. "All I know about you is your name; you're really not making a case for yourself."

"Allspark alive," Barricade grumbled. "Fine: how about one question, one answer?"

"Fair enough,"

"Ladies first,"

Brooke narrowed an eye at him. The sarcasm in his voice was obvious.

"What are you?"

He was about to retort by telling her he already said he'd show her later, but a moment later Barricade realized her question wasn't asking to see, it was just wanting a _name_.

"Cybertronian," he replied in a hushed tone. "We're an autonomous robotic race; our home planet is Cybertron."

Brooke's expression turned puzzled. Her curiosity was evident, but she held it back for the sake of the agreement.

"Alright, who were those men from last night?"

"Friends of my brother,"

_Two can play that game, kid._

"Are you actually... the car?"

"Yes," Barricade replied with a small smirk. "The hologram just makes blending in easier."

Their game of twenty questions went on for a bit. Brooke learned of the Cybertronian war, and Barricade's part in it. He didn't exactly delve into the whole Autobot-Decepticon bit since... well the name "Decepticon" wasn't exactly welcoming. As he had already deduced, she wasn't daft; she already gathered that his part in the war was more akin to that of a "villain." His demeanour was evidence enough. He learned that she had a brother who lived in the city, but was away from home practically all hours of the day. He also learned that she had graduated high school the year prior, and had been working since then trying to get enough to move out.

"You're pretty adamant on that; why the desire to move out?"

"Let's..." Brooke trailed off. Her face looked pained and Barricade lifted a brow. "Let's just say my home isn't exactly the nicest place to stay."

"Judging by your reaction, I'll assume you don't mean the interior decorating."

The young girl gave a mirthless laugh. "Yeah, yeah that's not it. I just need to get out."

Mulling it over, Barricade let out a harsh breath from his nose. Primes, he was even adapting human mannerisms...

"I would say you could stay with me, but I don't know how comfortable that would be."

"Why the hell do you have a house?"

"I don't; it's an abandoned factory out on Sourland Mountain. It's spacious enough; I imagine you could re-purpose the office into a room."

"Bathroom?"

"It has one,"

"No shower, though," Brooke grumbled. There was a deal breaker if there ever was one.

"It has a chemical shower; you could re-purpose that, too."

Brooke gawked at him.

"What?"

"Do I look like a mechanical engineer to you?"

"Primus' sake, fine, _I_ could do it for you."

"How?"

Barricade shrugged. "It's not that hard. I can use excess metal scraps to make a water barrel; attach a heater to it and it can melt the snow down, and keep it warm, making an impromptu shower. This is, of course, assuming you even _want_ to live out there."

"You're giving me a chance to get away from home; if that means bathing with snow water, I _really_ could care less."

The hologram lifted a brow, turning slightly to look at Brooke. She stared back, the genuine seriousness evident in her eyes. Barricade shrugged it off.

"If you want to live out there, I won't turn you down. I don't know what all you need to survive, so that's up to you."

"Non-perishable food, water, some clothes and a place to sleep; that's about it," Brooke said, looking back to the children playing in the snow. Crossing her arms, she looked down to the ground in thought.

"You want to say something more,"

Turning on her heels, Brooke looked up to Barricade, narrowing her eyes just barely. The hologram's brow lifted, staring at her from the corner of the eyes.

"Tell me your ground rules. I want a better picture of what I'm getting myself into before I promise anything."

Barricade's brows lifted again. He had to admit, for a young human, barely an adult, Brooke was surprisingly mature. She was willing to face him and ask him to lay his cards. The part of him that was getting better at reading humans knew this must have something to do with her home-life. He turned and faced her, looking straight in her eyes.

"I'll be blunt, then. As soon as you see my true self, you've become a national security risk," Brooke's eyes widened. "You must understand this; right now, you have no proof that I'm anything else than human. When you see me, it is a secret you must take to the grave. You'll forgive the brevity, but this isn't something I take lightly. Just as you are trusting me with your security, I'm trusting you with my secrecy."

Brooke looked off the side, contemplating what he said. He could see her mulling it over; weighing the situation and possible outcomes. A smart move, he'd admit; he was asking her to do something potentially dangerous. She looked up to him, which he took as a signal to continue.

"You must also understand that I will often leave seemingly at random. I may be gone for hours at a time. I also ask that you not try to get yourself involved in anything I do. If you have plans, I want to know them in advance, who you'll be with, and where you will be or will go."

"Okay, starting to sound like a possessive significant other..." Brooke muttered, her face contorting in distaste. Barricade narrowed his eyes, and Brooke muttered an apology.

He proceeded to explain the rest of his rules rather simply: don't bother him and he wouldn't bother her; don't pry into his affairs; let him know when plans were made, changed, or cancelled; and be as self-sufficient as possible.

"I've been taking care of myself for a while, I'll be okay."

"Good, then I needn't be concerned," Barricade replied. "I'd prefer taking as few shopping trips as possible."

"I have to ask, why do you need to know all the details of when I go out?"

Barricade rolled his eyes. "Knowing where you are is one thing; knowing who you're with is another. While I have no doubt you can take care of yourself, I also have no doubt other people can take advantage of you. Now, you may not like it, but I want to know: are there any people you don't want near you?"

Brooke gave a weary look, before glancing down in thought. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and opened her camera. Flipping through the pictures, she turned her phone to him. Barricade took it, examining the picture. A couple, each clearly a bit older stood on each side of Brooke and another young man, while a little girl was sat on Brooke's lap.

"Them; just... just them,"

Barricade paused. She clearly didn't mean the children in the picture. Without moving his head, he looked up at Brooke. He couldn't figure this girl out. Either she was using this as an excuse not to explain it verbally, or she really was _that_ stupid. Either way, she had just - perhaps inadvertently- told Barricade _exactly_ why she didn't like going home.

A part of him was disgusted. The same part that was appalled by the atrocities humans inflicted on each other; the same part that knew his own people weren't much better.

"You seemed pretty vehement on not telling me earlier."

"You'd have figured it out sooner or later," Brooke said in a far off tone, her voice barely above a whisper.

Barricade snapped the phone shut, holding it back out to her.

"Is there any... permanent damage?"

"Nothing physical," she sighed, taking the phone and looking back at him. "Don't- please don't-"

Her hand was held out, the eternal symbol of her signing her freedoms to him. A bold move for such a fragile being, trying not to break down in front of him. Humans have used handshakes as a seal for centuries. And here she stood, willingly agreeing to a stranger's proposal of protection. A part of him felt bad: she really _didn't_ understand. However... for her to be so desperate as to look for her solace in a stranger - in an _alien_...

"I know. I won't."

* * *

**End Note:** See, even Barricade has his nice moments. Sort of - oh, you all know what I mean.

Again, sorry for the delays. Life and stuff, you know the drill. I'm on a bit of a kick though, so maybe there won't be a long wait for the next chapter. Fingers crossed.


End file.
